


Brotherly Love

by turtle_paced



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 21:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3992983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_paced/pseuds/turtle_paced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the siege of Storm's End, a young Stannis Baratheon tries to be a good brother. Unfortunately, he doesn't define such things the same way as his brothers do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brotherly Love

**Author's Note:**

> This began pretty much as a personal challenge. Self, I said, you must learn to write Stannis' POV. Why? Because I like Stannis, dammit. Your warnings this time are for mentions of rape and a threat of sexual mutilation.

The view from the top of Storm’s End was clear. It had been weeks since the sky had been so free of clouds and the sun so bright. Even the bay was calm. For now. _The sea is full of diamonds,_ Renly had said when last he and Stannis had shared that view.

_The sea is full of rocks,_ Stannis had replied.

No ships in sight, nor any ravens today. Soon one or the other must come.

The raven that had started it all had been addressed to him. It had borne the king’s seal. Maester Cressen said it had every sign of authenticity to it. Stannis took the parchment out again, though he had committed its words to memory days ago. The letter bore a small tear where his shaking hands had strained the paper too hard, and creases from when he had been even less careful.

He had not thought that his hands might shake over words on a page. He wanted to burn it. He dared not.

It named Lord Robert Baratheon traitor and called for him to come to trial at the Red Keep. Him and his co-conspirator Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.

Unwritten was how Eddard Stark had come to be Lord of Winterfell in the first place; he had not held that title a fortnight before, nor had anyone truly ever expected him to. The last Lord Stark had been called to trial as well. Stannis knew that what he had received there had not been justice.

“Brooding up here alone will speed neither ships nor ravens on their way,” Maester Cressen’s familiar voice said behind him.

“Brooding downstairs will not speed them either,” Stannis replied. “And there are fewer drunkards up here to disturb me.” 

“But far more seagulls.” The maester paused, as if he expected Stannis to smile, or perhaps even to laugh. It was a long-standing habit of his that annoyed Stannis nevertheless. “Lord Robert cannot possibly arrive here for some weeks yet at least.”

“If he arrives at all.”

“Yes. Or that.” A heavy sigh. “Have you decided on a response yet, my lord?”

Stannis looked back across the bay. Still calm. Still clear. The stormclouds were all in his mind – or Renly’s, if the boy was old enough to comprehend what was going on around him. “If I had, why should I tell you? You are Robert’s man. I might have decided to hand him over to Aerys.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stannis saw Maester Cressen smile. “You have never called his grace Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, simply _Aerys_ before,” he pointed out. 

Stannis scowled.

“Be that as it may,” Maester Cressen continued, “I serve Storm’s End and its lord, as I have told you many a time. That is Robert. At the moment.”

“You know the offer Aerys has made to me.”

“And I know that it is no small thing to turn it down,” Maester Cressen said gently.

The bay was before him, the drum tower behind. His family’s seat of power. He knew it far better than Robert ever had – the castle, the lands, its neighbouring lords, its vassals. “Do you think I should take it?”

“I want you to make the decision you think is best. Not just for yourself, mind, but for this castle, its people, and indeed all of Westeros.”

All of Westeros. Would that were an exaggeration. What had happened to Lyanna Stark was not just, what had happened to Rickard and Brandon Stark was not just. Stannis did not know if he could hand Robert over to what Aerys called justice. If he were to become lord of Storm’s End, he did not want it to be the way that Eddard Stark had become lord of Winterfell.

“You ask me to make this decision as the lord of Storm’s End already,” he accused the maester. “It is not my place.” 

He was the second son. Like it or not, this was all Robert’s. Stannis owed him a brother’s loyalty. That included not usurping his decisions, much less his lands and holdings.

But Aerys was the _King._ His father had acknowledged that. Robert himself had acknowledged that. Through Robert, Stannis owed Aerys loyalty too.

It hadn’t been fair. His thoughts kept coming back to that. Rickard Stark had been promised a trial for his son.

And to call Robert to King’s Landing to answer for Brandon Stark’s crimes, such as those crimes were, wasn’t fair either. He doubted Robert had done anything but shout his rage over the situation to Jon Arryn’s rooftops. His betrothed had been kidnapped and raped.

Stannis had never been one for the so-called intimate charms of women. He did not see why Lyanna Stark in particular was so important to his brother. Robert might claim to love her above all other women, but he still bedded who he pleased. Nevertheless, there had been an agreement in place that Rhaegar Targaryen had imposed himself into. Apart from his crimes against Lady Stark herself.

“You know well the responsibilities of a second son, and an heir,” Maester Cressen said. “You are here, and Robert is not.”

“I will take on nothing of the sort,” Stannis snapped. “The banners are Robert’s to call. He is no traitor. Aerys has no right, not after what he did to Rickard Stark.”

His harsh tone made Maester Cressen smile for some reason. “As you say, my lord.”

“Now is not the time for your word games, old man.” He knew the maester had been poking him towards stating a firm decision. “Robert is my brother.”

There was no right thing to do. It was infuriating.

Robert was his brother, and Stannis owed him a brother’s loyalty. He would keep to that. Aerys did not seem likely to keep to anything. Stannis had no reason to believe  _him._

 

\---

 

News of Robert was some time in coming. It was a raven first, which found its way into Renly’s hands upon arrival. His brother ran to him with it. “A raven!” Renly said breathlessly, “A raven from Robert!”

“Good,” Stannis said. “Give it to me.”

“I want to read it first.” 

“The letter is for me. There may be things in there Robert does not want you to know.”

Renly handed it over reluctantly. “Is Robert coming back?” he asked, as soon as Stannis had broken the seal and unfolded the paper. “Will it be soon?” 

After a minute of reading, Stannis said, “Yes.” It had contained more or less what Stannis had expected, given that it had arrived at all. His brother had sent the raven from Gulltown, which he and Jon Arryn’s forces had seized.

Robert had probably made a spectacle of it. They’d all hear about it at length when he arrived in person. “He is well,” Stannis added.

Renly smiled brilliantly at that. It was the sort of smile that had every woman in Storm’s End cooing after him and the men indulging him in his games. It would not serve him well with anyone beyond the castle walls. “Do you understand what is going on?” Stannis asked his younger brother. “Robert has declared war on the king himself.”

He had also been declared king by the rebels. It made sense. Their grandmother had been a Targaryen. Stannis had not explained to Renly yet what might happen if they won. No more had he explained what would happen if they lost.

“Robert will win,” Renly said confidently. “Robert always wins.”

That was true enough. Also true enough was that sooner or later Robert must lose at something. Now would be a poor time for it. Stannis scowled at the thought despite himself.

 

\---

 

This ship did not get caught in one of the sudden storms that came upon the bay so frequently. It did not break apart as the bay was wont to do to ships. This was well, for it was Robert’s ship.

Stannis met his older brother at the dock. Robert looked little different than he had last time Stannis had seen him and smelled as all men did after a long sea voyage – foul. Stannis discovered at a closer range than he would have liked when Robert pulled him into a rough embrace.

“Welcome,” Stannis said once Robert released him.

Robert smiled at him. He looked much like an older Renly when he did so. Stannis knew it won Robert an entirely different sort of female attention. “It’s good to see you, brother of mine.”

“What do you want?” Stannis asked. Robert only ever acted like this to him when he wanted something. They both knew Robert didn't actually think it was good to see him. The last time Robert had invited him anywhere was so he could mock him over Proudwing.

“The castle, of course.” 

“You have it,” Stannis said. “I have not betrayed you to Aerys.”

“Good,” Robert said. His smile fell away. Stannis preferred him like that. It was more honest. Being around him never made Robert happy. They both knew it. “What news?”

“Your bannermen await your summons,” Stannis said. He fell into step beside Robert as they made their way towards the lord’s chambers. “I have not called them, that is your right, but the groundwork for such a call has been laid. Most of your lords have professed loyalty for your cause. Most of those who have are likely sincere.” 

Robert grunted.

“The Reach marshals,” Stannis continued. “The Tyrells remain loyal to the crown, as you surely know by now, but have made no overt moves in the field as yet. I have left the numbers in your solar.” It was the lord's solar, and therefore Robert's, for all that Stannis was the one who currently made the most use of it. 

“They’ll try and cut me off,” Robert said. “Mace Tyrell’s that sort. He’ll want a famous victory on the field if he can get one.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Cut through and cut through fast. We’re all meeting in the Riverlands. Me, Ned, and Jon.”

“You’ll have to take most of your men to do it.” It was the only way. “If you succeed, the Tyrells will likely swing around and attempt to take this castle by siege.” If Mace Tyrell wanted a famous victory, taking Storm’s End would do. Nor could Robert continue a Riverlands campaign if his own castle fell.

“That’s your part,” Robert said. “I need you to hold this castle and keep Renly safe.”

Stannis had expected something of the sort. Someone had to hold the castle. It was not a glorious task by any means, but necessary. “I will hold the castle no matter the cost,” he said. He would have to have the stewards lay in more food. They had enough for the better part of a year thus far, but for a siege they would need yet more. 

When they reached the privacy of Robert’s rooms his brother had yet more to say. “You could have called the banners,” he complained. “It would have made this easier.” 

“I could not,” Stannis said. “You gave me no leave to do so. You must know that Aerys offered me Storm’s End if I turned you over. I could not act in your place under those circumstances.”

“But you didn’t turn me over.” By now Robert looked more than simply displeased, but furious. At what, Stannis did not know. Did he _want_ Stannis to have betrayed him? “Why not? I know you. You live for all that honour and duty stuff. You’re worse than _Ned_.”

“I have a duty to you,” Stannis said. “Aerys would have killed you without a proper trial.”

Robert stared at him. Then he started to laugh – deep, booming laughter that did not sound joyous in the least. Stannis did not see what was so funny. “Gods,” Robert said, once he caught his breath. “What a brother I have!” He laughed yet more. “So you tell me you wouldn’t give me to Aerys just because he wouldn’t have killed me _properly_.”

“As far as I know, until Arryn declared you king, you had done nothing to warrant even an arrest.” 

As quickly as the laughter had come, it went, replaced with fury. “That _bastard_ took Lyanna,” Robert said. “How many times do you think he’s raped her by now? If I’d been at King’s Landing I wouldn’t have been as patient as Brandon Stark was.”

“Do you think you would have fared any better?” Stannis asked. “As far as I know, you cannot take your warhammer into the black cells.”

Robert waved it off. “Ned can have Aerys,” he said. “He can burn him alive if that’s what he wants. Seems fair to me. But I get Rhaegar. I’ll kill Rhaegar myself and give Lyanna his prick on a plate if she wants. We can throw it to the dogs.”

Stannis ignored that. “Did you need anything else of me?”

“No,” Robert said. “Go. Gods be praised for loyal brothers.”

 

\---

 

Renly was overjoyed to have their brother home and could not be persuaded to leave his side. It was rare for Renly to keep his attention on one thing or person that long. Robert indulged him. He even seated Renly at his right at the meal that evening. 

“-but I was the first,” Robert concluded his dramatic tale. “So Ned owes me a dragon.”

_Ned_ had recently lost his brother and his father while his sister was raped. Yet Robert had cajoled him into making a wager upon the storming of Gulltown. Stannis would have taken offense. If he had been the one to offer the wager, he would have _given_ offense.

Since it was Robert, everyone in earshot was hanging on his every word and laughed when he finished.

“Is Ned your friend?” Renly asked.

“Since I was a little older than you are now,” Robert said.

“Do you like him better than me?”

That made Robert laugh. “He’s like a brother to me. I spent the first year at the Vale loathing him. He reminded me a lot of Stannis, actually. He goes around with a face like this –“ Robert grimaced, and behind his back, so did Stannis “- and he will not shut up about honour.”

Renly wrinkled up his nose. “And you _like_ him?”

Robert laughed again. Stannis vowed not to react. He would not. No matter how angry he was. “Unlike our dear Stannis, Ned's a lot of fun once you get used to him. He’s a good man,” Robert said. He sobered. “He didn’t deserve any of this.”

“You’ll make it better for him, won’t you?” Renly asked. He looked at Robert with perfect faith that their brother could fix anything.

“It’s not the sort of thing that can be made better,” Robert said. He spared a glance at Stannis then. “But we’ll make sure he can have vengeance.”

“It’s justice that Eddard Stark should have, not vengeance,” Stannis interrupted.

“Justice, vengeance,” Robert replied, “Either should end with Aerys’ head on a spike.”

“Aerys was not unjustified in detaining Brandon Stark,” Stannis said. “He had made several threats against Rhaegar’s person.”

Robert slammed his fist on the table, knocking over a goblet. Wine dripped down to the floor between them. “How can you say that? Lyanna was kidnapped. Every last damn thing Brandon said was fair.”

“He should have dealt with the matter without riding to the Red Keep and shouting threats through the windows. That part of Aerys’ complaint was substantiated.” 

“Get out,” Robert said. “Get out now. Before I lose my temper. Consider yourself lucky I don’t break your jaw right now.”

Stannis didn’t bother to argue. There was no point when Robert was in a mood like this. No point in saying Rhaegar Targaryen should answer for his actions. No point in saying Aerys was unfit for the throne. Robert just wanted everyone to agree with him.

So Stannis left. He had work to do besides.

 

\---

 

No matter how he looked at it, it seemed they would not have time to fully provision Storm’s End for a protracted siege. Winter’s end meant their stores were already low and the spring’s surplus yet to come. There was nothing to be done about it. As soon as Robert’s men left Stannis would have to put all who remained on rations.

It was unlikely to make him more popular, but so be it. He _would_ hold the castle.

There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” Stannis said.

“I have brought the texts you wanted, my lord,” Maester Cressen said. “There are no more books on warfare in our library than there were when you were a boy. Your esteemed brother prefers to do his learning…more practically, shall we say, and has made no addition to the collection here.” 

“Thank you,” Stannis said. It was what he’d expected. Five books. A meagre resource. “I will read them again.”

The maester sighed. “I wish I could assist you elsewise, but I am no historian. My education in the arts of warfare is severely lacking.”

“You will know more by year’s end whether you want to or not,” Stannis replied, “if you survive. In the meantime you are needed for your ravens and your poultices, not your knowledge of battle.” 

Stannis looked down to the stack of books he had been brought. Maester Fredrik’s _Treatise on Siegecraft_ was topmost. The book was in deplorable condition. However, if he recalled correctly, it did feature a lengthy treatment of failed sieges against Storm’s End itself. The patronage of a long-ago Lord Baratheon had assured both that and its presence in the castle’s library.

“I do have some advice for you, my lord, if you will hear it.” 

“Speak.”

“You will not likely find the solution to our problems in those pages, much as it pains me to say it. These are not books of instruction, and remember that there are other sources of information.”

“You are saying that I should emulate Robert and take up his practical instruction.”

“There are ways in which you could do worse than follow your lord brother’s example. Even I have heard it said that a wall is only as strong as the men who defend it. The same seems likely to apply to castles.”

The remark set Stannis to grinding his teeth. “If you mean to say that I do not enjoy the loyalty of the men, _say it._ I know they do not love me.” Not as they loved Robert. Not at all, in truth.

The maester sighed. “Just remember, my lord, that whether or not the men like you or you like the men, you must needs work with them and command their respect. Your desire for book learning, though commendable, is not likely to help in that regard at least.”

“I will not make myself ignorant to please the ignorant,” Stannis grated out.

“And I would never say that you should,” Maester Cressen replied. “Merely that a temporary reorganisation of your priorities may be in order. Speak to the men first, I implore you, and spend time with your brother Robert whilst he is here.”

The old man had a point. “Very well.”

The yard was bustling. Robert was planning to leave three days hence. Men were training, gathering and loading supplies, maintaining weapons. Robert was at the centre of it all. He always was. 

Stannis didn’t even bother to compete with him for the men’s attention. It would do no good.

It never did.

 

\---

 

The hour Robert was to leave, everyone waited in the courtyard of Storm’s End. It was once again a fine day. Even the weather loved Robert.

“Maester Cressen tells me you haven’t won your spurs yet,” Robert said casually. In front of everyone.

“I have not,” Stannis said. He had been a page and a squire, but nobody had as yet knighted him. He had not the tourney acclaim that would have merited the honour, nor less any proof of valour on the field of battle. The former was his own doing; he simply had no liking for tourneys, for all that the master of arms said that he would make a good showing at any melee.

“Well, kneel then.” When Stannis did, Robert said to one of his hangers-on, “Pass me a sword.” 

Robert’s ability to turn an honour to an insult was one of his worse qualities. It _should_ have been an honour to be knighted by his brother, the king-to-be. Instead Robert waited to the last minute and had to be reminded by someone else. Then he _mentioned_ that fact in front of all the men whose respect Stannis would need to hold Storm’s End. He made a display of it. 

Like so many other things about Robert, it made Stannis angry.

“Rise, Ser Stannis,” Robert said, once Stannis had repeated his oaths. “Defend my castle.” 

“As you command, your grace,” Stannis said.

Robert’s farewell to Renly was far more affectionate. Renly looked up with admiring eyes at the beloved older brother who was rarely there for him. Robert laughed to see it. “I hope you beat them _all_ ,” Renly said. “Aerys and Rhaegar and Mace Tyrell and –“

“Easy there,” Robert said with a laugh. Stannis could see an ugly look in his eyes nevertheless. It would be the mention of Rhaegar Targaryen that inspired it. “I have to save some for Ned. Besides, you might get the chance to defeat Mace Tyrell on your very own.”

“Why?” Renly asked. He did not have much of a mind for the practicalities of warfare. He could simply not be persuaded to pay attention to lessons on the movement of baggage trains, the need for good, detailed maps, or the proper construction of siege engines. That last one would be important for Stannis, at least, in the coming year.

“Why?” Robert repeated, not concerned about the state of his youngest brother’s education, “Why, because I only need to get past Mace Tyrell, not through him. I’ll give him a bloody nose and then send him off to duel you.”

Renly smiled. “Single combat?”

“If you like.”

“Can I use a warhammer too?”

Another laugh. “Warhammers might be a bit much for you at the moment, Renly. I first used one when I was twelve and even then I broke my foot by accident.” Of course he had. Renly seemed to find it amusing though. “Train hard and perhaps Master Noye will make one for you too.” 

Robert marched out with probably a good three-quarters of all the Baratheon banners the women of Storm’s End had sewed over the past moon. He had heard a few ladies complaining of sewing their fingers to the bone. Stannis thought they could do no less.

If Robert meant it to be a grand affair, he had succeeded. He wondered what the point was. Robert’s own men had places to go; Stannis’ small garrison had no use for pageantry. The sight of banners waving in the wind made no difference. Surely the breath of the trumpeters was better used for marching.

Those decisions were not his to make. “I want to be a king one day,” Renly declared from beside him, breathless with glee.

 

\---

 

After that there was a good deal of waiting. Stannis took to pacing to deal with it, on the walls when the weather was fair, in the lord’s solar when the weather was not. He could not wear a groove in the stone of either path, but it was not for lack of trying.

He met with the watchmen both morning and evening to hear their reports. When scouts returned from their tasks they reported to him directly. The few ravens they received were brought to him unopened. 

It accomplished nothing. Stannis knew it accomplished nothing.

The last he had heard from Robert was that he had won the majority of his battles. Randyll Tarly had defeated him at Ashford, but Robert had made his retreat in good order.

Robert would be nearly through the Reach by now. Mace Tyrell’s forces would either defeat Robert for good or turn around to besiege them all here. Maybe both.

Eventually the report came that Mace Tyrell’s forces were marching to Storm’s End. Soon after came the raven that told of Paxter Redwyne’s fleet sailing in their direction.

What did not come was word of Robert.

As long as Robert fought, Stannis would not bend the knee. He would hold the castle. He would not see it surrendered to Targaryen or Tyrell. He would not let himself or Renly, Robert’s heirs at present, become hostages.

Maester Cressen brought Renly to the ocean walls the day the ships arrived. Stannis was there observing. “There are so many,” Renly said. He was still excited. “Can I fight too?”

“You will do no such thing,” Stannis said. "I do not care what Robert said about duels."

Maester Cressen shook his head. “Renly, whilst we are up here, you may have a heraldry lesson. What is the sigil of House Redwyne?”

Stannis snorted. Renly only need look over the bay and observe the sails.

“Red grapes!” Renly said. He looked where the ships were starting to circle around the castle. “Like a vine.”

“And the sigil of House Tyrell?” 

That, Renly could not cheat for. Tyrell’s forces were not visible from this place on the walls. “A golden rose,” he said easily. “I saw the papers in Stannis’ solar. They were like a wreath.”

“A noose, more like,” Stannis said. “Go inside. This is no place for a boy. And no begging anything from the cooks. We will all be going hungry before this is over.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, whether or not you leave any feedback! (But extra thanks if you do.) <3


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